Bad Joke
by yesimahuman
Summary: There is no system. There are no rules, no regulations, and no absolutes. There are only those who realize that there is no system and bend it to their whims. The Joker is one of them, and his whims include a psychologist and a large hole in a wall.


Bad Joke

Dr. Smith of the Arkham Asylum did not know he was going to die within the next twenty-four hours. The Joker, however, did.

Dr. Smith of the Arkham Asylum was likewise unaware of the immense folly he had committed when he had volunteered to treat the Joker. And again, the Joker was all too aware of Dr. Smith's idiocy.

On the first day of the month of April, which was the day of the first and last treatment session of the criminal known as the Joker, Dr. Smith of the Arkham Asylum was brutally murdered.

The treatment session had begun a week into the Joker's stay at Arkham. His costume had been stripped immediately after his arrival, as well as his makeup. To the foolish, he was just a man with a Glasgow smile. To the intelligent, he was exactly as dangerous as he was before.

Bruce Wayne was of the latter group, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before the Joker managed to escape. What Bruce Wayne did not anticipate, however, was the swift nature of the Joker's escape.

To the Joker, such uncharacteristic unpreparedness was rather disappointing. He would have expected the Batman to be on his tail only hours after he escaped. Hell, he had expected the Batman to sneak into Arkham somehow, to prevent him from escaping! Sadly, he had not done so. The Joker told Dr. Smith this during the therapy session.

Dr. Smith had passed the man off as delusional the minute he had begun to rave about his 'imminent' escape. He had a splitting headache, and he was not in the mood for psychopathic criminals at that particular moment.

"Look," he said, "let's not talk about your escape. Let's talk about _you_- not your escape, but _who you are_."

The Joker chuckled. "But you already _know _who I am. I'm the Joker."

"No, you're not," Dr. Smith retorted. "_I'm_ interested in who you are behind all the makeup. We're taking steps towards finding out who you really are. See, we took off that silly makeup, and we took away that silly suit-"

The Joker laughed, and at the same time, he didn't laugh. It was a predatory howl of an animal, a monster, and it certainly was not the sound of a man. Dr. Smith was not used to dealing with monsters, and as such, he did not realize that he was about to die.

His head continued to throb.

"Why, James," the Joker said, reading off Dr. Smith's name tag. "Whatever made you think-"

The Joker paused to lick his lips.

"Whatever made you think that there was a man behind the mask in the first place?"

"There is _always _a man behind the mask," Dr. Smith replied.

And _now _the Joker was really laughing. The Joker was _amused_. He was not predatory or sinister, he was simply amused. He was laughing as if Dr. Smith was a riotously hilarious comedian, or a romantic comedy, and it was so _funny_.

"And it's these, these," he said, struggling to find the words to describe Dr. Smith's foolishness, "these _misconceptions _that just _tickle _me _pink_, but they still _bore _me at the same time!"

"You see, it's like a movie," the Joker continued, "a movie that's so bad that you just start _laughing _at it. You can't help it! But you can _never _really enjoy it."

"I don't think we're making much progress," Dr. Smith said, exasperated.

"Do you want to know why they call me the Joker?" the Joker asked.

Dr. Smith rubbed his temples. His head was still throbbing. "I'm really not interested," he confessed.

The Joker put a hand to his mouth in mock horror. "I'm so hurt, James," he said, wiping away imaginary tears.

"Why don't we get back on top-"

"Why don't we _not," _the Joker retorted. "Why don't we talk about other things, instead? I'll ask you again. Do you want to know why they call me the Joker?"

Dr. Smith sighed. "Go ahead," he said.

"You are a perfectly healthy, normal, man," the Joker deadpanned. And then he began to laugh. "See! See! _That's _why they call me the Joker, because I-"

The Joker licked his lips, again. And Dr. Smith couldn't help but feel the chills creep up his spine, because the man _kept licking his lips_, _why _was he licking his lips, _why _couldn't he just stop, _stop it, stop it_-

"I _make _the jokes, you see, James," the Joker said. "Because you're _not_ perfectly healthy, _or _normal! What was her name? Tiffany? My, my, Connie will be _so _upset when she finds out-"

Dr. Smith's eyes widened in horror.

"- that her husband isn't so 'normal' _after _all! That her 'perfect' family isn't so 'perfect' in the end."

Dr. Smith could not speak. He had asked the Joker why he was named 'the Joker,' and that would be the last request he would ever make.

"Do you want to know the _other _reason? It's because I _get _the jokes," he drawled. "I understand the jokes that nobody else can. You see, Dr. Smith, I'm going to get out of this boring, boring place, whether you like it or not!"

And now Dr. Smith discovered that he could _not _move. His body was unresponsive, and his brain was as well, for it was clouded with the emotion known as _fear_.

"You used the word 'always,' and you see, _that's _a mistake!" the Joker exclaimed. "Because that word- that word implies a system, and there _is _no system. You all think that there is, but you're all blind fools. I can bend the system because I see that the system is one, big, damnable _lie._ It's a bad joke. So I'm going to bend the system a little and find out my tidbits of information. I'm going to see exactly how much influence it takes to find out every single little secret about my dear, dear, psychologist, and then I'm going to get the hell out of here. I'm going to find out how many briefcases filled to the brim with money it'll take for your doctor to give up some keys, and I'm going to see how many pounds of explosives it'll take for me to blow him to hell in a 'car accident.' And I'm going to see just how _fun _it is to watch your eyes widen and your brow begin to sweat- because you see, I didn't really need to _know _that you slept with a prostitute, but seeing your face when I find out- _that's _one _fine _joke."

The Joker stared Dr. Smith in the eye. "Do you want to know," he asked, "where I got these scars?"

When Dr. Smith did not respond, the Joker laughed. "Is that a yes? Well, then, I'll continue. I was a teenager, just like you were one day, with all the angst and the drama. But I wasn't a 'normal' teenager, oh no. Oh, the other kids laughed at me and poked me and stole from me, and one day, I got so _tired _of it all, so I took a knife, see-"

The Joker put a finger in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digit, almost lovingly-

And then he yanked it out.

"Or maybe," the Joker whispered, "it was my father, or my wife, or my psychopathic son. Maybe it's _all _of them at the same time, because, you see, I'm _not _a normal man, but _neither are you_, James! Neither are you."

"But you see," he said, backing against the opposite wall. "In about- five seconds- we'll be _very _different, because I'll be alive-"

Dr. Smith's head exploded, blasting a hole in the cell.

"And you'll be dead."

Review, please.


End file.
